


That time before he wished they'd never met

by Krash39



Category: All Time Low (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 09:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19391497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krash39/pseuds/Krash39
Summary: "And last year was a really tough year for me. I was going through my first big breakup, and kinda handled it all the wrong ways." - Jack Barakat





	1. Chapter 1

Jack shut the heavy front door to the apartment harder than he'd meant to, but also enjoying the aggressively loud _bang_ that shattered the silence of the empty hallway behind him. He tossed his wallet and keys on the counter and kicked off his sneakers, leaving them atop the growing mountain of shoes in the hall. Much like the rest of the open apartment,.  
Jack was, by no means, compulsively fastidious, but the collection of pizza boxes and wine bottles spilling out of the trash can were just the beginning manifestation of the whirlwind he'd become in the last four months.   
  
Four months? How had that much time even passed? He wondered miserably, uncorking a new bottle and pouring the wine into a beer glass. He filled it almost to the brim before returning the bottle to the refrigerator. He blinked looking at the dwindling supply. Hadn't there been more yesterday? He glanced back over the counter, noting the empty containers littering its surface. He was just going to have to get some more, and soon.   
Jack padded over the hardwood floor towards the living room, kicking old shopping bags and balls of laundry, both clean and dirty, out of the way. With a grunt he dropped onto the couch, it was close to six but the bright California sun continued to shine through his large windows. It's clear warmth annoyed him on a basic level. It hadn't rained in Los Angeles since, that day, and it felt like the constant sun was purposely mocking him. Call him emo - but he wanted cold, gray, bleak days. He wanted rainy days spoiling plans; all the more excuse to stay curled up in bed under a fuzzy blanket.

Nice days meant people expected things of him; to show up places, and make conversation, pretend that his heart wasn't a shriveled, empty hole in his chest. One that sucked in all emotion like a collapsed star - leaving an eerily silent void. Jack took a large mouthful of wine from his glass and pulled out his phone.   
The small lime green icon sat glaring at the bottom of the screen. A garish red 7 nestled in it's corner. He pressed it twice and waited for the first voicemail to play. "Heeeeeey Jaaaack" A throaty female voice sang over what sounded like the din of a restaurant. "You'd better not be standing me up -" He hit the delete button and a tone overtook the voice erasing it from existence.   
"Hi Jack it's Ted, wanted to know if you still wanted to see the apartment" 'Beeeeeeep' another one gone. He didn't need a new apartment now. He wasn't going to change his entire life for someone anymore. Wasn't riding the frightening high of moving on to a new experience, excited for what the possibilities could mean to 'the future'.   
Ha! The future, that was a laugh. Everyone talked about the future, planned for it, fretted over it. But no one liked to acknowledge that everyday you woke up was still today.

Several more messages started, and ended the same way. Bleeped out without any intention to acknowledge them. "Jack. It's Alex, just checking in. Gimme a call" That one Jack let play out before he deleted it. He felt some of his sadness melt, before anger bubbled up. He wasn't going to call Alex back. Alex would be logical, and wise. Say all the right things that Jack knew he needed to hear to start putting the pieces back together. After all, who knew him better than his best friend? All the more reason for Jack to avoid him. He didn't want to put the pieces back together - he just wanted them back together, all on their own.

He didn't want to sort through emotions splintered into bitter sweet and raging sad. He didn't want to make sure all her things were gone from his life. Just the thought of having to go through and delete all their pictures or relive their endless text messages, it was all too big.  
"Hi Jack- it's Mom." he took another mouthful from the glass. "May told me about your girlfriend. I'm sorry." Jack grit his teeth. "Call me back, we can talk. I love you." He looked up to the ceiling feeling an unwanted warmth pooling in his eyes.  
The dilemma. Jack had, in his humble opinion, the 'best mom ever' which always brought with it the knowledge there wasn't anything he could tell her she couldn't make better. And the part of him he wanted most to ignore, the part that hurt more than he ever realized it would, in all the worst ways, wanted nothing more than to call her back and talk for hours until the unconditional 'Mom' love really did make it ok again. It was all too big.

Instead, he turned the ringer off and stuffed his phone between the couch cushions.  
For now, he'd settle for distraction. Turning on his tv Uncharted 3's save point glowed playing through it's infinite 40 second loop. Jack downed another two mouthfuls and started to play.  
Maybe that's how four months had slid by barely noticed. Lost to reloads and shit talking the live stream. And some less drunk, rational side of Jack knew this wasn't the way to move on. Tomorrow, he'd promise himself. It's easy enough to start tomorrow, and by the time Jack passed out on the couch, another 2 bottles of wine were empty.

  
Some ungodly noise woke Jack early the next morning. He blinked sand paper across his eyes, having fallen asleep with his contacts in, again, and tried to ignore the vice that had somehow gotten stuck between his ears. The noise came again- and this time he realized it was knocking. "Fuuuuuu-" his curse gargled into a hack as he tried to swallow past the dry sock feeling that filled his mouth.   
He didn't bother to roll off the couch, if he ignored it long enough the knocking would stop, and who ever owned the hand would leave him alone, he hoped. But then much to his dismay a metallic grinding echoed through the door as it swung open. Jack sat up puzzled -who had a key to his apartment? His confusion only grew when Zack strolled through the door, backpack slung over one shoulder.   
"Zack? What the hell are you doing here? And where did you get a key to my apartment?" he wanted to stand, to add to the gravity of the questions, but his hangover had other plans.   
"It smells like ass in here." Zack said setting his bag down on the floor. He checked the small chair for any incriminating signs and sat down casually. Jack pushed himself up, turning so his back was to the window. He set his mouth in a thin line and raised an eyebrow. "We made it last year. You locked yourself out after Danny's party? Rian actually took the door knob off so we could break in then you made me swear to keep a copy just in case."   
"Oh, yea that sounds pretty familiar." Jack let out a resigned sigh. He was loosing the battle to his mood quickly, and while he didn't want to kick Zack out after coming all this way, he still wasn't in the mood to people.   
Jack stood and began to head to the kitchen. Coffee, maybe coffee would make whatever this was going to be more bearable. "You want coffee?" He called over his shoulder. "Nah, I had like 3 cups getting here." Zack replied following. Jack laughed "That sounds like Rian." He filled the Keurig well with water and turned it on to heat up.  
"Keeping busy?" Zack asked moving several wine bottles away to put his elbows on the high counter. Jack rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to roll his eyes. This was not a conversation he was interested in having.  
"Little of this and that, you still saving the world?" It came out more petulant than he'd intended, but the hell with it. Jack was not in the mood for this. "Still playing football?" Zack ignored the dig. The question suddenly infuriated Jack,   
"Jesus Christ Zack, What?! No I'm not playing fucking football, yes I am drinking because I feel like it. Any particular reason you're being Captain Coy or is this just a fun little jaunt?" Jack leaned back against the refrigerator doors and crossed his arms over his chest.   
Zack let out a grim laugh. "You kidding? Have you looked in a mirror dude? You look like hell, this place is one step shy from being condemned - and coming from me, that's saying something - and everyone's worried about you."   
"You could have called for that." Jack poured the steaming liquid into a mug. "You've been radio silence for weeks." "Well I'm sorry I haven't been everyone's entertainment monkey."   
"Exactly." Zack replied.   
Jack was confused again. "Pack your stuff, let's go." Zack tossed his head towards the bedroom. Jack was still having trouble putting the pieces together.   
"What?"   
"I'm kidnapping you. Let's go, get some stuff - leave the lava lamps"  
Jack opened and closed his mouth. On one hand he had no desire to leave, on the other, the thought of getting away from everything was incredibly appealing. "Ok, gimme a minute." He set the mug down and went into the bedroom.   
The normal concerns didn't matter now where they were going, how long they'd be gone. He grabbed a handful of t-shirts and several pairs of jeans, a toothbrush, his glasses and a contact lens case and left all the rest of his 'daily routine' behind.

Apparently Zack had ordered a Lyft while he was packing because an unfamiliar SUV was parked outside his apartment building, waiting. Zack climbed into the back seat, and slid over for Jack to follow. "You guys going to LAX?" The driver asked? "Yea, domestic departures." Zack replied. Jack gave him a questioning look, but didn't ask.  
LA traffic was surprisingly light around the airport and he briefly contemplated a last minute stop at the In-and-Out Burger, but decided against it as his stomach reminded him of his hangover.  
The car pulled up to the United Air terminal and they hopped out, Jack following as Zack led the way to the ticket counter. "How did you know I'd go with you?" Jack asked watching Zack slide two tickets across the counter. "I didn't. I bought them open ended." He grinned knowingly.   
They leisurely made their way to the gate with stilted, awkward conversation. After all, he said he'd go, he didn't say he'd be pleasant. It took until they were finally at the gate before Jack was able to sort out where they were going; Hawaii. The prospect of 6 hours on a plane did not sit well, and his mood darkened. "I'm gonna get a drink." He turned and headed back down the terminal. "Or twelve" he muttered.   
  
Jack took a seat at the first bar he passed and ordered a shot and a Miller Lite. "Nervous flyer?" The younger bartender asked as she set the glasses in front of him. "Reluctant sober." He replied and downed the liquor. She laughed hesitantly, not sure if he was kidding. Jack didn't bother to clarify and signaled for another as he chased with the beer. "Where are you headed?" She asked trying to engage. He took a moment to try and read her, but couldn't tell if she were being friendly, thought he was cute, or trying to slow him down.  
"Hawaii, but I'm beginning to have my doubts about agreeing to it."   
"Oh, I went to Hawaii once, it's beautiful there! You won't regret it." She poured another. "You going with someone special?" She smiled genuinely; just being friendly then. "Sadly, one of my favorite people on the planet. But, if I time it right, I can maintain a semi-permanent buzz for the duration." He threw back the last shot and finished the beer before pulling several bills out of his wallet. "Thanks, Amanda." He glanced at her name tag and dropped the money on the bar without waiting for a reply.

"That was fast." Zack mumbled as Jack dropped into the seat next to him. "I can be productive when I want to be." "As long as you don't puke your productivity all over me, we're boarding."   
They shuffled into line down the long corridor to the plane. The forced, recycled air smell turned Jack's stomach and he stifled a belch with a sharp look from Zack. "Oh, don't worry, I'd be much sneakier if I were going to hurl on you." He smiled and was surprised when Zack returned it. He quickly stuffed his bag into the over head compartment and scrunched down into his seat, shoving a pair of earbuds in his ears. Finally, he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and closed his eyes in what he hoped was the universal airline equivalent of 'do not disturb'. The faster Jack could be asleep, the better.


	2. Surfers swim at their own risk

It was after 7 when they Ubered from the airport.  
Zack's house was bigger than he remembered, higher up in the hills, and for a moment he wondered if Zack hadn't moved since the last time he'd been out to see him. But then Jack passed the patched hole in the living room wall. Recalling their house warming party and the pool-less chicken fight where Zack, with Matt on his shoulders, had toppled he and Alex. On the way down Alex had put his elbow through the dry wall. After the frenzied "Did we just break Alex" moment (luckily they had not) they laughed until they were crying.   
The memory warmed Jack a bit, and he was surprised to find a smile on his face. Possibly the first one in weeks. "You can crash in here." Zack opened a door. The grey room with sparse, dark furniture echoed as Jack entered. It had an empty, static feeling about it, like a hotel room, or an Ikea display, but Jack tossed his backpack onto the bed anyway.   
"You feel like ordering some food?" Zack called from the kitchen.  
Jack's stomach finally responded in a positive manner  
"Starving." He called back.  
By the time the door-dash arrived Jack was two beers in and blowing through Grand Theft Auto much to Zack's amusement.  
They passed the night easily. Jack knew there was more Zack wanted to say, but he was careful not to open the door to conversation. He managed to make it to bed that night, mostly drunk and without having to say much of anything.

To Jack's dismay, he woke the next morning to the realization that Hawaii was sunnier than California.   
Begrudgingly, he untangled himself from the bed sheets and immediately put his sunglasses back on before heading out of the bedroom. He poured himself some coffee and headed out to join Zack on the back patio and in the sun. "You're trying to kill me." He said sliding into the overstuffed chair. Zack laughed, "Morning to you too."   
"So, what's next?" Jack sipped his coffee and felt sleep lessen its hold.  
"Up for some surfing?" Zack squinted hard through the light.  
"I don't surf." Jack scoffed. "Not yet, but it's the best place to learn" Zack headed past him and ducked into his bedroom. Jack looked out over the horizon. He had to admit the view was a definite perk. More tree canopy than actual city with a teal ocean stretching for miles beyond that. Closing his eyes, he noticed the sounds. Light city traffic. Somewhere close a lawn mower dopplered back and forth.   
"Nice, isn't it?" Zack asked returning with a pair of shorts.  
"You can definitely get lost in it." Jack opened his eyes.  
"You think you need to be more lost?" The honesty struck Jack.  
"You think I'm lost?"   
"You're definitely not you right now." Zack held out the shorts.  
Jack accepted them. "Ok then Yoda, you gonna be my spirit guide?"   
"I'll be your drill sergeant." He smiled and Jack followed him back inside. By the time he'd changed into the shorts, Zack had pulled two surfboards and wet suit shirts from an open closet.  
  
It was noon by the time they settled onto the beach. It was unlike any other Jack had seen. Santa Monica's beaches were loud, filled with tourists. Ocean City back on the East Coast was craggy, with small cliff's carved out by the surf. This was almost deserted of people. The shoreline a mixture of white sands and rocky outcroppings that jutted out into the surf. With large tide pools surrounded by shady palm trees. In the water small tribes of surfers floated amongst the waves. " I gotta hand it to you, this place is amazing. How the hell do we convince you to leave and tour with us?" Zack dropped his board into the sand and Jack did likewise. "It's expensive to live here." Jack laughed in earnest at the response. Wow, that was twice in four months, maybe getting out of LA was an improvement.  
"So,here's your first lesson in Zen. Show me how you pop up"  
"Is that a euphemism?" Jack raised an eyebrow making Zack laugh again.

They spent an hour going over the basics. Jacked practiced step-by-step, attentive at first, but soon began to grow impatient. So they pulled on the wet suit and headed into the water. Almost as soon as he started paddling, a wave out of nowhere crashed over Jack, capsizing him and the board. He broke the surface again coughing back a nose full of water to Zack laughing. "I have the feeling I should get used to that." He smiled climbing back onto the board. "Pretty much." Zack started paddling again.

It was, in fact, exactly what he got used to as they followed the waves in and then back out again passing the afternoon. Every so often they would catch a breaking wave and Jack would try to surf it, ending up in a tangles of his own arms and legs, while Zack would smoothly glide over the water before hopping off. Eventually someone from one of the other groups made his way over. "Hey Zack!" He was about their age, with almost four full sleeves of tattoos. "Hey Nick, how's it going?" They shook hands before Zack tossed his head towards Jack "My lead guitar, Jack." "M'halo Jack, saw you surfing, is this your first go?"  
"Yea." Jack also shook his hand. "You've got pretty good form, keep lower, you'll pick it up." Jack smirked. "We got a bonfire goin down on the beach, come by." Nick motioned starting to head back to shore. "Cool man, thanks." Zack called.   
"Up to you jedi-in-training. You good for today?"   
"They're called padawans-"   
"You are a total dork for knowing that."   
"Yea, think I'll quit while I'm ahead." Jack looked back to the sun beginning to set on the horizon. Again he couldn't help the warm calm bubbling up watching it. "Every single one of those is worth watching." Zack sat quietly next to him rocking gently on the waves. "Definitely helps, I haven't thought about, her, all day." Jack looked down into the water. "Nice isn't? Don't start now." Zack slapped the back of his shoulder and they both began to paddle to shore.

The party was several other twenty to thirty somethings of locals with a few coolers of beer and veggie dogs. Jack and Zack laid their boards around the edge of the circle and joined in. Jack took a beer offered and began warming his dinner. He ended up sitting next to a girl, slightly younger than himself who told him her name was Reesa.  
"You're from here?" He asked noticing her large brown eyes. "From the big island, but yea, mostly. This your first time here?"   
"Zack lives here, I've been a few times, but mostly just to play, we're in a band." She laughed. "Tell me you're kidding? That's totally a line." She teased. Jack realized he liked listening to her laugh. "No, for real, I play guitar, Zack is the bass player. We've been a band since high school with two of our other friends." She kept smiling but didn't press any further.   
"Well, since you don't get here often, if you don't mind the walk, there's a great little cove near here where sea turtles come to shore, if you wanna see it." "Sure." He finished his beer and grabbed them each another before offering his hand to help her up.  
  
They strolled slowly, less than half a mile laughing and chatting about nothing. Occasionally 'accidentally' brushing up against on another's shoulder - half teasing, half due to the alcohol.  
"So, you like taking advantage of tourists?" He smiled letting his hand run lightly down her back. "Nah, but I do have a thing for leggy blonds." she joked before bringing her mouth to meet his. Jack let her, and pulled her against him. Eventually he broke away, wanting more, but before he could stop himself, his head hijacked his libido. "Um, I-I can't do this right now." He mentally kicked himself even as the words left his mouth. Craving the contact, but feeling his mood dropping further with every second.  
  
She looked worried for a moment "You have somebody?" He laughed bitterly. "Not anymore, no." He kept his fingers laced in hers lightly and she nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry." he apologized. "Don't be." She hugged him warmly, "I hope you figure it out." She pulled back and gave him a sympathetic smile.   
"Thanks."   
"I wasn't lying about the sea turtles." She kept walking. If she was upset about the previous moment, Jack couldn't read it in her body language, so he followed to where she crouched at the edge of a large pool. He watched small dark shadows wiggling through the ripples of the water.  
"The babies start migrating out to sea this time of year." She pointed to one close to them. "Holy shit, it's a little ninja turtle!" He laughed.   
Jack wanted to stay and watch them, but the longer he sat next to Reesa, their awkward silence now stretching, the worse he felt. He finished the rest of his beer and stood, feeling the world tilt a bit. "Listen, I - um. Thanks." She turned her face up to him, the moonlight making her eyes look even bigger.   
"And I am sorry. It was nice to meet you." he turned and headed back towards the party, swaying a bit as he walked. The alcohol had definitely begun to take it's toll. And instead of rejoining the group he grabbed another beer and made his way down to edge of the water.   
He stared into the darkness, sitting in the sand. He drank, warring with himself before pulling out his phone. 4 months. He flipped through a dozen or so pictures. Smiling faces, silly faces. Their arms entangled. Her hair brushing against his face. It had always smelled like roses. Their lips pressed together. Her smile. Everything in his head told him to put it away. But the sensation of missing her was suddenly so strong it was almost palpable. So against his better judgement he pressed her name in his contact list.  
The phone started to ring.  
"Jack?" Her voice was heavy with sleep and surprise. Familiarity crashed over him like the ocean. He couldn't find his voice at first, just swallowed, his mind racing. He hadn't thought of what he'd say after so long. "Jack? Are-are you ok?" Concern now coloring the tone.   
"Yea, I'm fine. Hi." She sighed, not exactly with relief. "I, um, how are you?" He tried to sound relaxed, to hide the fear that began to churn in his stomach.  
"I'm good, It's been a long time."   
"Good, that's good." He nodded, again mentally kicking himself. "Did you need something?" The question was as confused as he felt. Then the world dropped out from underneath him.   
"Babe, who's on the phone?" A muffled male voice came over the line. He could tell she'd covered the phone with her hand. "No one, babe, go back to sleep, I'll be right in." She'd be in - to bed. With him. Someone else.

Of course she would. She'd wanted to go. She wasn't in love with him anymore. Someone had stolen all the air off the earth and with it Jack's ability to breathe or think.  
"Listen Jack-"   
"I gotta go, glad everything's good." he cut her off and hung up as the world began to spin. Life went on for her, like nothing had ever happened, and he was stuck sinking into a surreal hell. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jack leaned to the side and vomited into the sand. He felt hot tears drip from his eyes, and hoped they were from being sick, rather than from the sucking hole where his heart had fallen through the back of him.   
After another moment he stood on shaky legs, and made his way back up the beach to the sidewalk and took the first cab he could hail back to Zack's house. He didn't even know if Zack was still with his friend's or not. But he didn't care. He just wanted to drown out the overwhelming ache that teetered on swallowing him whole.  
He paid the fare and stumbled around the back of the dark house. He idly wondered if maybe Zack was home and had gone to bed. Ideally he was still gone, so Jack could just be alone. He tried the door, but found it locked. Then two different windows before finding one open. He slid the screen aside and somewhere in the back of his mind he prayed none of the neighbors noticed and called the cops.  
He was halfway in. Everything up to his hips inside with his legs precariously balancing him out when his hand slid off the cold sink, toppling him the rest of the way through.  
He landed in a heap on the tile floor, dragging the toilet paper roll stand and several towels down with him in a clatter.   
"Figures." - At least that was what Jack had meant to say, it more or less came out as a slurred "Godfuckingdammit!"   
  
Small favors - he was met with silence. So he straightened the mess and headed back to the kitchen.   
He opened a cabinet or two, before noticing a small shelf filled with liquor bottles. One three quarter full of Buschmills caught his eye in the corner. Its top covered in a layer of dust. "There is every chance I brought this last time." He reasoned with a sardonic smile and took a long pull.

He exhaled through gritted teeth at the burn and wiped at his eyes again. This time he doubted it was the result of having thrown up. The liquid disappeared quickly but did little to slow down his brain the way he'd intended. And sometime before dawn Jack finally felt the fire behind his eyes go out enough to sleep. 

He woke up on a cold tile floor. He'd had enough 'morning afters' to know it was a small mercy, though his lack of shirt, or pants for that matter, made him shiver. He cracked his eyes open to take in the toilet of the bathroom he'd climbed - or fallen - into several hours earlier. Most of the pieces fell into place in his pounding head. It was very likely that his clothes - Zack's clothes really- had been whiskey casualties. Jack sat up and pulled the light blanket over him, around his shoulders. He paused a moment and then threw up again into the bowl. It took another fifteen minutes for his stomach to settle enough to stand in the shower.   
With the water mildly scalding he began to feel slightly more human. He dry heaved twice more before turning off the water and heading into the hall with a towel around his waist. Coffee first he decided bypassing his temporary room. Zack sat on the couch, his laptop open.   
"It's alive." He announced without looking up. Jack winced at the, no doubt, purposeful volume and poured some coffee into a mug.   
"Didn't know bonfires were a reason to get white girl wasted." Zack closed his computer. "Any reason for the meltdown?" He asked. "Not a discussion while I'm wearing just a towel in your kitchen." Jack smiled into the mug before trudging back down the hall. He pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans before plopping down on the couch next to Zack.   
"So Houdini, what happened?"   
"Well, it started out alright with some alone time with, shit. What was her name?" He blanked  
"Reesa." Zack replied his tone clipped.  
"Yea, sorry, she a friend?"   
"Friend of a friend, but she's cool" Zack shrugged.  
"She was very cool. But as soon as she kissed me, I freaked. And I left. After that." He paused. "It's a little fuzzy." If Zack heard the lie, he didn't mention it.  
"You broke in and killed a bottle of liquor."   
"Sorry." Jack said guiltily. "I didn't break anything, did I?"   
"No, dude! I don't care that you broke in, at least when you do it. There's a spare key behind the mailbox by the way - but you were passed out puking. People die like that." Zack managed not to sound condemning- but the concern in his voice was just as heavy.  
"It's no big-"  
"Hendrix." Zack interrupted before Jack could shrug it off.  
"Am not, I'm taller and I object to you referring to me as a hippie."   
Zack smiled, and Jack felt the tension lift. Message received.   
"Just, you know, I'm here if you wanna talk. That's why you're not in LA."  
For some reason Jack felt instant annoyance. "No thanks Freud. I don't need a babysitter."   
Zack shook his head. "Wasn't how I meant it." Jack nodded. "Fair enough, I'm gonna go pass back out." He headed back to his room and all but flopped onto the bed. He closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. Instead he replayed the phone call. He wished he could redo the whole thing. He wished he'd never called her. Never heard his voice. Didn't have to know the truth. That it really was over. He'd never even considered reconciling things, but now that she'd moved on there absolutely was no possibility. And that certainty was like slamming into a brick wall.

The light is too bright. Glaring off all the hard edges and stark walls of the room. Shes sitting across from him. Her face is drawn, eyes red from tears. Her hair glowed in the sunlight, like a halo- white.  
"I'll always love you Jack, but not like that anymore." She meets his eyes and this time the sadness they hold doesn't convince him of the unfortunate truth - that she'd just been going through the motions. That he'd known but didn't want to believe it. "You'll always LOVE ME?!" he sticks on the word love and she flinches. "Who needs your love!" He stands, angry as she shrinks back. "I NEVER loved you!" he roars throwing a glass that shatters against the wall. "Jack! Please!" She pleads. This never happened, he knows it didn't go this way but it's too late. The room is burning - melting around them. He breathes fire as she tries to run. His rage fuels the flame hotter and he laughs gleefully as she too begins to turn to ash.

Jack bolted up with a gasp in the darkness of his room. He was sweating and shivering at the same time. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and dropped his head, running his hands through his damp hair. "Fuck." he muttered just to break the silence. He headed out to the kitchen and chugged a glass of water feeling some of the tar melt away from his sleepy brain. The microwave clock read 2 AM. He noticed Zack's bedroom door open just enough to see the flickering light from the muted tv. Jack suddenly felt wired and exhausted, and thought about going out for a walk. He decided against it and laid back down in bed. Again his thoughts began drifting back to her. He shook his head and turned on his phone. No more wallowing right now. He opened a browser to a saved video of a blond making pouty faces at the camera. The video escalated quickly and Jack closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy the distraction. The first video finished and another loaded, similar. He finished halfway through the second and tossed his phone aside, willing himself to relax. It worked. Jack cleaned himself up and drifted off to sleep again, this time dreamless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've mentioned it before, I'm sure the RL person Jack dated has a name, but "None of my business" so the personal pronouns shall continue. :D


	3. Riders on the storm

Several sleepless nights passed and the conversation between Jack and Zack had deteriorated to mostly grunts.  
Zack made several attempts to broach the subject, if only to alleviate his own feeling of walking on eggshells, all of which Jack avoided, often by opening another beer or wine bottle. The stalemate grew old quickly, and Jack noticed Zack try to give him some space.   
  
Space lasted a week in which Jack found the popular tourist club and proceeded to reassure himself that his "miss" at the beach party with Reesa was simply bad timing.  
Still, Zack kept his distance and tried not to mind the daily stranger he would awkwardly meet tip-toeing past the kitchen. Shoes in one hand, clothes barely in place, the raccoon eyed look of last night's makeup making their surprise at seeing him even funnier.   
"Word's gonna spread that you're playing both sides." Zack laughed into his coffee one morning as they sat playing "Far Cry."   
"How's that?" Jack looked confused.   
"They go to bed with you and see me in the morning. You're going to get a reputation,again."   
"Only herpes is permanent."   
Zack smiled, but an obvious tension still hung in the air. Fuck it.  
"So, when are you going to start dealing with this?" Zack asked - he wasn't letting Jack avoid it any longer. Jack slumped further into his hoodie and continued playing the game. "Dealing with what?" The annoyance was obvious.   
"Her."   
"Oh jesus, this again? Dude, I am. She's gone, I'm living, what the hell else do you expect me to do?" Jack put down the controller when his character died.   
"How about stop running away? Get your shit together." Zack didn't start his turn and stared at Jack, mid swallow of his wine.   
"This-" Jack started.  
"Is NOT party Jack. I know party Jack- he's at least fun. This is the bizzarro - might as well be wearing a goatee - version of you." Zack interrupted.  
"Whatever." Jack set his controller down and left the couch heading to his room. Zack sighed, exasperated, and leaned his head back on the couch. "You just wait until your Mom gets home." He mumbled rolling his eyes at the ceiling.  
  
Jack stayed in that night and the next night. His solitude however; resulted in more boxes filled with recycling. Behind the bedroom door, he tried writing, even playing one of Zack's old guitars, but his restless mind made it almost impossible to finish a thought. Everything drifted back to conversations he didn't want to have. At around 3 am, after a seemingly endless standoff with his phone he deleted her number, and decided to go for a walk. He made it out into the hall before his stomach rebelled. Three bottles of wine, half of bottle of bailey's and four cups of coffee, took their revenge. As he retched, Jack was dimly aware of the hall light going on. "You good?" Zack asked from outside the bathroom. Jack nodded and heaved again as the world continued to spin. A quite minute passed and Jack was able to crack open one of his tear filled eyes. Zack still stood, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed but face impassive.   
  
The anger bubbled up again under the scrutiny. "Fucking Christ! I said I got it DAD!" Jack tried to spit bitterly, though it came out heavily slurred. The slightly more sober voice in the back of his mind, cringed, knowing why his best friend was still hanging around. It went disregarded.  
He stood meaning to push past Zack, but missed and mostly shoulder checked him, throwing himself more off balance. Reality spun around him, and the feeling of two strong arms grabbing his set off a surprising feeling of panic.  
"Get the fuck off-!" He scrambled, twisting to free himself, and managed a hand. Before he realized it, Jack let it fly. His stomach sinking as his knuckles connected with something. He toppled forward with the momentum and landed on the floor.   
"Fucking seriously?!!!"   
The world cleared, the edges of reality sharpened again with instant sobriety.  
Jack sat up to find Zack also now on the floor, stemming a line of blood from his nose.   
"Zack. Fuck. I'm-I'm so sorry." Jack's voice was small, and numb with shock.   
Anger burned in Zack's eyes, but his voice was flat and emotionless. "Go to bed Jack." He picked himself up off the floor and walked by, still errantly wiping at the blood. "Fucking sleep it off."  
The words stung more than if he'd been punched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one. Sorry :)


	4. No Quarter

The morning fallout may have been worse than punching his best friend in the face; simply because there was none.   
There was coffee, eggs and then awkwardly loud silence until Zack left with his gym bag in tow.  
  
Alone, in comparably quieter silence, Jack did the dishes, collected all the empty bottles that had been accumulating and deposited them at the curb. He made a point to spray down the bathroom with a bottle cleaner from under the kitchen sink. It wasn't labeled, but at least smelled like lemon. Too soon though, his domestic distractions ran out. Leaving him fidgety, so he idly selected one of Zack's old acoustic guitars and sank into the couch. 

He hadn't touched a guitar in the four months since the implosion, though he'd tried several times. Something had distressingly felt alien and cold about it. So he'd avoided it, and the panic suddenly loosing the skills with which you make your living, brings. He briefly recalled several less-than-sober nights cursing her for taking that from him too.

Now the stiff metal strings felt comforting under the dense callouses long since formed. Chords and phrases from his favorite songs wove together in a skeletal medley. Blink's "Going away to college" slid into Foo Fighters "Learn to Fly" that became "Lady Gaga's "Poker Face".   
Jack was relieved at how good it made him feel. He smiled truly and as he powered through Green Day's "Welcome to Paradise" he almost missed the loud buzzing coming from his pocket. He leaned back to fish out his phone, and almost dropped the guitar when he saw the number.   
It was her.  
Time stopped. His knee jerk reaction was to hit the answer button. "Really? Even now?" his brain admonished - but luckily he hesitated just long enough to begin the debate. He didn't want to talk to her. Knew nothing good could come from it. Knew he was twenty five hundred miles away from her and should let the distance just continue to grow. And then his curiosity got the better of him.

"Hello?" He asked, genuinely surprised.  
"Hi Jack. I...um. I didn't hear back after that phone call last week. I, um." She laughed with casual nervousness. "I was ya know, worried about you. Just wanted to make sure you were ok."  
The sentence struck him dumb.

"Make sure I was ok? You called me to make sure I was ok?" He repeated the words like they'd been said in another language. She laughed again, still careless, as if they were the best of friends.  
"Yes -"  
"Why would I be ok?" He cut her short and the line went silent. She sighed after a moment and changed the subject.   
"Where are you?"   
"Hawaii. I'm staying with Zack for a little bit."  
"Good, that's great that you guys are hanging out."  
"Why?"  
"Because, you didn't really get to that often outside tour, and, cause" she trailed off.  
  
"I don't need your sympathy." the embarrassment of the moment began to wear on Jack.   
He'd been drunk and called her like an idiot, and now she was calling, not because she cared. How could she? She'd moved on. She felt bad, or worse wanted to let him know how fine she was. 

"Jack I -"   
"What part of Broke. My. Heart. Did you not understand?"  
"You're not the only one who lost in this. You know, you like to blame me, but two people broke up in that relationship, not just one. You broke my heart too!"  
"Bullshit. Did you start rearranging your whole world? Cause I did."   
"But I never asked you too Jack. You were JUST as distant as I was. We weren't happy with how it was going - you're just mad that I'm the one who pulled the trigger. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry you wanted to keep going, but I couldn't go through the motions. No, I didn't want us to move in together because we weren't in love like that. But that doesn't mean I don't care. You don't spend over a year with someone and instantly not care!"

Jack could feel himself shaking in anger as words froze in his throat. He wanted to tell her she was wrong so badly. But the icy brick in his guts knew it would have been a lie. He squeezed his eyes shut and let the silence play on.  
"Jack?" She finally asked, her voice small and sad.  
"I gotta go." The voice that responded didn't sound like his own. It was thin and vulnerable.   
"I understand. Take care, and, I really am sorry." She hung up.   
And he stood there, frozen in the moment. Afraid that if he moved the tidal wave of sadness would sweep him away entirely. Or worse; not.

His mind played over four months of anger and sadness, and somewhere deep down a small voice offered up the final piece.  
Lies.   
He'd wanted to love her so much more. He'd been enamored by the idea of "the one" and the happiness it seemed to promise. It had made all the excuses for him.   
Without actually deciding to do so, Jack screamed a curse as loud as he could, pitching the phone through the air.  
It shattered across the room. And then once again, the oppressive silence.   
It took a moment after the world blurred for Jack to realize he was crying. And sinking back into the couch, he let himself. 

By the time Zack returned from the gym, the only signs left were Jack's slightly reddened eyes, which he easily covered with his sunglasses sitting on the back porch, and the broken corpse of his phone.   
"Did you play?" Zack asked hopeful, as he sat down in another chair and nodded towards the guitar laying out.   
"Mmmm"  
Jack nodded slightly, gazing over the horizon but not really seeing anything.   
"What happened to your phone?" he picked through the pieces of shattered plastic and glass on the table.  
  
"I think I need to go home." Jack muttered looking into his lap. "I really appreciate you trying to help with this, but, I don't think I'm really ready. I still want to be numb right now, and apparently that leads to me swinging on my best friend like a douche." Zack blinked in surprise.  
"And besides, your neighbors were giving your recycling box looks." A faint smile flashed at that corner of Jack's mouth.   
Zack sighed and sat back. "You sure you wanna be alone with this?"  
Jack nodded. "Yea, I've gotta kick my own ass at some point. But it's nice to have friends that'll try and do it for me." Again he grinned, but with the sunglasses, Zack couldn't tell if he meant it.   
Jack knew there was more Zack wanted to say, but he also knew he'd respect his decision to go.   
"I can drop you off whenever you want, then." There was a resignation in Zack's voice that made Jack feel guilty. He thought about telling Zack that he hadn't failed. That it was never his job to fix him. But right then, he didn't have it in him to say it.  
Always too much to unpack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the dismembered pieces of this were sitting on my old hard drive (RIP CodeMonkey) and made it through installing the new one (Hello Mister Mxyzptlk) And I FINALLY set aside some time to finish it. So thank you guys for being SUPER patient and I hope this doesn't suck.


	5. Not a chapter - Just an Update

Hiiiiiiii!!

Sorry, didn't mean to tease, but the next chapter IS coming. It's like halfway done, but I am also ridiculously behind on anything Christmas related and that's largely due to my hockey season. So apologies, I'll be back!!!! *To be heard in applicable Schwarzenegger voice**


	6. New Day Rising

I miss the tears  
I miss the laughter  
I miss the day we met and all that followed after -Carole King  
  
  
A lifetime ago, after All Time Low had set out on their first tour, Jack had returned to Baltimore for the very first time. He was stunned at 15 to learn that once you left, home didn't look the same.  
When he'd told his mother this, she'd smiled. "Home doesn't change Jack, the way you see it does, you're world's much bigger now."  
After that Jack had always made a point to try and memorize how home looked before he left.

Now, it was unnerving that Los Angeles looked exactly the same. The sprawling field of lights trickled into a darkness. In day light the mountains stood like impressive guardians surrounding the city. At night they looked more like a void - a black hole swallowing everything up.  
He hailed a cab leaving baggage claim, and watched the city pass outside his window. Honking traffic, just as heavy at night, passing endless strip malls lit with garish neon and LED signs.  
It made the quiet of Hawaii that much more obvious, and suddenly Jack felt claustrophobic in the back seat. Every stop light he suppressed the urge to open the door and take off at a dead sprint; to escape. But he didn't, and soon enough they pulled up in front of his apartment building. Jack paid his fare and began to climb the familiar stone steps.  
  
Even the smell of the night was exactly as it was when he left. "Guess the world stayed the same size this time."  
He keyed in the building code and headed up the stairs, two at a time. His apartment looked as if a small tornado had passed through. "Zack was right. Should have hired a maid." He smiled and didn't give too much thought to the fact that he was talking to himself.  
He tossed his bag onto his bed and was overwhelmed with a keen sense of his world stalling at that moment.

  
What came next?

  
And much like the cab, the apartment began to suffocate him. Jack shook himself "Nope! Not doing lame and lonely." He reflexively reached for his pocket and felt it flat - his phone had stayed in Hawaii, at the bottom of Zack's trashcan. He cursed and rolled his eyes. He'd have to get a new one later. He looked at the clock on his bedside table, 11pm - still enough time to hit one of the closer bars.  
Without second thought he changed into cleaner clothes and headed back out into the night. It was a short walk to the closest bar with music loud enough to drown out thoughts. The security at the door nodding him through. A tall blond with intricate sleeves of tattoos paced behind the bar. Jack searched for her name as he leaned into the smooth metal.  
"Right on time handsome." She teased setting a glass in front of him.  
"Hiiiiiiiiii, Dana." He was 90% sure he was right.  
"Been a minute since you stopped by, usual?"  
"Tequilla, whatever's closest."  
She smiled and tipped the liquid, heavy handed, into his glass. Jack caught her eye with the unspoken agreement. She could save the sly smile and flashes of extra skin for the tourists, he'd tip extra if she poured it.  
Symbiosis at its finest.  
There was a youngish looking band playing a cover in the back, and by his 3rd round Jack decided to pay closer attention. He ordered one final drink and slid into the chair of a small two top. They started a new tune he didn't recognize that included an electric violin, not typically west coast, but not gimmicky. He sipped his drink and soon found himself nodding his head to the beat, loosing himself pleasantly in the atmosphere.

Jack eventually turned to head back to the bar when he took note of a figure huddled alone several tables away. He cocked his head as if to see around the angular shadows of the room and recognized them.  
"Hey Kevin! I didn't know you were back in town, mind if I sit?" Kevin jerked in surprise at first and then gestured to the open seat.  
"How've you been? Haven't seen you since we finished "Renegades."  
"Yea, kinda took a break."  
He finished his drink. Jack could tell something was off, but between the lighting and the band it was hard to read.  
"Wanna go hang?" He half shouted. Kevin considered a moment and then slid his chair back from the table.

"Whiskey still?" Kevin sat on the high bar stool while Jack rummaged through his cabinet for a liquor bottle. He nodded, still less than talkative.  
"So, what have you been up to? How's um, I'm sorry, I forget her name." Jack admitted sheepishly sliding the glass over.  
A darker shadow crossed Kevin's eyes, and his straight expression dropped a bit.  
"We're done." He swallowed a mouthful hissing slightly at the liquor burn. Jack's eyes went wide. "  
Shit dude, I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?" Jack felt his skin crawl as the words left his mouth. This wasn't a topic he wanted to tackle sober, let alone 3 hours into drinking after flying back into his own problems.

Kevin's eyes glossed over "She told me if I wasn't ready to move forward that she was moving on."  
"That's fucked up."  
"Tell me about it, I mean I just wasn't ready for something bigger, I'm barely keeping things steady right now as it is, and she wanted promises and." He trailed off.  
"I loved her, I just wasn't there, that didn't mean I was never gonna be, but like she wouldn't even gimme time. Like who knows that shit in a year, right?" He dropped his head to wipe his eyes.  
An uncomfortable familiarity brought a warmth up that had nothing to do with the drink in Jack's hand. He swallowed hard and let the silence be his response. Kevin sat back, his composure resettled on his face and gulped another mouthful. He looked up and half smiled, waiting for some response.  
Jack laughed and raised his glass "Fuck love then, right?"

  
Kevin blanched. "What? No! Dude, love is worth it. I'm serious." He didn't bother to hide the slight slur creeping into his voice.  
"Ok." Jack replied rolling his eyes. "I don't know if you've noticed, but love hasn't exactly been worth it for either of us lately."  
Kevin shook his head, setting the glass down on the counter.  
"Love, looking for it or working towards it or whatever, it's the point. Because when you care more about someone else than you do for yourself, it makes you open to being kinder, and insightful and just." He paused looking upwards as if the word would appear "Less of a dick."  
Jack snorted a laugh emptying his glass.  
"Doubt if you want, but look at me."  
Kevin stood swaying slightly and pointed to his chin. "Took one right there, n'I'm not gonna let it drag me down. I'm not gonna chicken out." He grinned comically wide and went to sit back down, mostly missing the chair and barely recovering before he headed to the floor.  
"Think I might need'n Uber."  
"Think we agree on that one."

They stood waiting on the side walk watching a small SUV make its way down the block. "Give it some thought, what I said. You gonna roll over and be a dick, or try again when it shows up."  
Jack smiled but kept his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets.  
"Think at the very least, it's time to make some changes." He replied watching Kevin open the door of the car as it finally pulled up. He turned back.  
"Sounds like a plan. Night."  
Jack stood watching the car to the end of the block before it turned a corner leaving him alone. He turned back into his apartment complex and climbed the stairs yet again. This time, something about walking through his front door was different, the mess inside; repulsive, and intolerable. And without hesitation he began reordering his home, room by room. At dawn Jack flopped into bed, and for the first time in months, immediately fell asleep.

Several hours later Jack woke to another recent precedent, none of the usual hangover symptoms. It made getting out of bed so much easier. He showered, changed and headed out to replace his phone. Sitting at the smooth counter in an Apple store he mentally listed off who he needed to text and in what order, when the universe decided to play a cosmic joke.  
"Of all the gin joints in the world." He muttered.  
She looked right at him, and smiled, and began to make her way over. Jack cursed under his breath.  
"I've got bad luck and headaches."  
"Hi Jack."

She had somehow gotten more beautiful. Her eyes were brighter, if not a little sad, her hair was almost literally glowing -though it could have had something to do with the fluorescent lighting. Life's. Just. Not. fair.  
"Hi." He managed to reply.  
"Do you mind if I sit?" he shook his head and she slid onto the stool.  
Why in the hell had he said ok? He didn't want to talk to her, their last conversation still stung fresh, except; Kevin's comment nagged in the back of his mind. Not a dick. He decided and started speaking before he could think better of it.

  
"How are you doing?" She looked surprised.  
"I'm good, surprised to see you. How was Hawaii?"  
"Not bad, little rough on the phone though." He nodded towards the display models in front of him.  
"Oh wow, that sucks." She smiled sympathetically and he reeled at how easy it was to fall back into step.  
"Listen." He continued. "I want to apologize for that last conversation. I haven't been - well I've been kind of fucking things up lately. And, you didn't deserve what I said."  
She gently took his hand. Breathing was getting more difficult.  
"I also, I never said, I'm sorry too." She smiled cutting off all the oxygen in the room completely.  
"Thank you." She said quietly and stood.  
He nodded watching her turn to go, feeling the smothering sensation give way to warmth behind his eyes. He blinked faster. It was the right thing, but that didn't mean it didn't fucking hurt. He watched the entrance of the store long after she'd passed it.

As the new phone blinked to life he noted the increasing number of texts waiting for him. The last to show was from just a few minutes before.

 **Swtalkr** : Did you decide?  
Jack smirked and then replied:Decided to take one on the chin. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it. The brain thing. If you read this far; thank you. If you commented; Thank you! And if you prompted me to get off my ass and actually finish this thing REALLY thank you :D
> 
> P.S. I know the chapter title is SUPER on the nose, but I really like Hüsker Dü so....too bad. :D

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I'll try any continue this, but fair warning, it's just a brain thing and may never be seen again.


End file.
